Cold Hands, Hot Fists
by Thorn Wild
Summary: Season 4. Spike is chained to Giles's bathtub. He has lost his ability to hurt others. He is broken, and only pain can make him feel. Pain that Rupert Giles can't give him. But Ripper might...


Rupert Giles pauses outside the bathroom door, mug of pig's blood heated to body temperature in his hand. He's not entirely excited about going in. The chained up vampire in his bathtub may be harmless, but Rupert feels uncomfortable around him all the same.

Spike turned up at his doorstep on Thanksgiving, broken, shivering and famished, with a chip in his brain. He still hasn't been able to tell them anything particularly useful, and Rupert in no way trusts him, behavioural modification chip or no. It doesn't help that the vampire is his usual, snarky self, and that his insults and mind games have become worse lately. Rupert tries to get his feeding duties over with as quickly as he can, while ignoring anything that comes out of Spike's mouth. Even in the five minutes it takes, he is bound to get an earful.

Taking a deep breath, he opens the door and steps inside.

Spike looks up from the bathtub. 'Oh, good, it's the pizza boy,' he says.

'Shut up and drink,' says Rupert, sitting down on the edge of the tub and offering the mug.

Spike captures the straw with his mouth and sucks hungrily. His eyes linger on Rupert, who looks away. With his free hand, he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, trying not to listen too hard to the slurping and swallowing noises next to him.

When the mug is empty, Rupert gets to his feet as quickly as he can. He puts the mug on the sink and closes the shower curtain to put Spike away while he takes a piss.

'This again?' says Spike. 'Bit of performance anxiety, Rupert?'

_Don't listen._

'Is it cause you don't want me to see that you sit down like a bitch?' Spike continues. 'Or maybe you're just hiding away your tiny, insignificant manhood?'

Rupert snorts. 'You just couldn't handle it. Might make you want to kill yourself, seeing what you can't have.' _Oh, shut up, Ripper! Why did you say that?_

To his surprise, Spike laughs out loud, a throaty, gleeful laugh. 'Not bad,' he says. 'Didn't know you had it in you.'

Rupert tucks himself away and flushes the toilet. 'Good night, Spike,' he says and, picking up the mug, he leaves the bathroom, turning off the light.

He rinses the mug in the kitchen sink and washes his hands. Then he goes to bed.

A week. One whole week of closing the shower curtain to take a piss, of chaining Spike to the toilet every time he wants a shower, which is increasingly less frequently. Of listening to the vampire's taunts. Of withholding blood from him to try and get answers out of him regarding the commandos, and always giving in because it seems as though Spike genuinely doesn't know anything more than what he's already told him, or maybe just because he can't stand to be in his presence very long.

Maybe it is his insolence. Maybe it is his accent. But Spike brings out Ripper in him. Being close to Spike breaks down Rupert's carefully erected defences, makes it harder to keep the anger inside. When he thinks about everything that Spike has done, all the people he has killed, Rupert wants to hurt him. He wants to torture Spike the way he himself was tortured by Angelus.

Even though Spike attempted to prevent that… Possibly saved his life, even.

Rupert turns over onto his side and sighs. He suspects that sleep won't find him easily tonight either.

#

He must have fallen asleep in the end after all, because the next thing he knows he is being roused awake by a loud thumping sound from downstairs. In his sleepy and disoriented state it takes him a moment to realise what it is.

_Spike…_

He sits up and reaches for his glasses. He squints at the alarm clock. It is six in the morning. Too early.

He stands up and pulls on his dressing gown, not bothering to close it over his chest.

A voice joins the thumping. 'Rupert!'

'Shut up!' he calls back, but the thumping continues.

He stumbles down the stairs, still groggy, and wrenches the bathroom door open.

'What?' he growls.

Spike has been kicking the wall of the tub. There are boot marks there. 'I'm bloody hungry!' he complains.

Rupert stares at him in disbelief. 'You're dragging me out of bed at six in the bloody morning for that?' He turns around. 'Forget it, I'm going back to bed. You get fed when I say you get fed.'

Spike begins kicking at the tub with both feet again. 'But I'm hungry!' he yells. 'Get me some fucking blood!'

Rupert spins around and lunges at him before he can stop himself. He grabs hold of the chains and shakes Spike, bringing his face right up to his own.

'You do _not_ want to make me angry, _William_,' he hisses. 'If I say so, you don't get fed at all, are we clear? And I _will_ hurt you!'

Spike meets his glare, unblinking. 'Do it!' he whispers. 'Or haven't you got the testimonials?'

Rupert shoves him away, hard, and gets to his feet. The back of Spike's head hits the edge of the tub with a loud clang.

Rupert closes his eyes for a moment and draws a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. When he opens his eyes, Spike is still glaring at him, and he turns to leave.

'Please.' The tone of Spike's voice is thin and pleading. Rupert stops dead in his tracks, disbelieving. Once again, he turns his head around to look at the vampire in the tub. Spike is looking away now. He is working his jaw, and he swallows audibly. 'Please,' he says again, meeting Rupert's gaze slowly, 'could I have some blood?'

Rupert heaves a sigh again, and stalks out into the kitchen. He supposes it would be too much to think that he will get any more sleep at this point anyway.

He fills a mug and pops it in the microwave. He uses the thirty seconds it takes to heat the blood to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment, mug in hand. Spike stares up at him with defiant blue eyes. Rupert steps inside the little room and offers the mug again. Spike drinks without comment, and stays silent while Rupert takes care of his morning toilette.

As he leaves the bathroom, he hears a quiet, 'Thank you.' He smiles in spite of himself.

#

That evening, much to Rupert's annoyance, Spike appears to be back on form.

'Can't stay away, can you?' says Spike as he enters with the mug. 'Christ, you're pathetic… Still, I guess you don't get laid much, these days… Tell me, who'd you rather do? The Slayer or the redhead?'

'Do you want this or not?' Rupert says as calmly as he can. 'Because I can just pour it out…' He walks over to the sink.

'All right, I'll play nice,' says Spike. 'Just making small talk…'

Rupert sits down at the edge of the tub again and lets Spike drink. The vampire takes a couple of sips before speaking again.

'I guess I can't blame you for being frustrated; can't have had the company of much more than Miss Right Hand since Angelus killed your little girlfriend–'

Rupert throws the mug at the wall above Spike's head and it shatters, pig's blood splattering them both and seeping down the wall in thick, red rivers. Again, he grabs hold of Spike's chains roughly. 'I warned you not to make me angry!' Rupert growls.

'Go ahead, then!' says Spike. 'Hit me!'

Rupert obliges, sinking his fist into Spike's side.

Spike throws his head back and groans, and a shiver seems to run through his body.

'Do it again,' he whispers.

Rupert gets to his feet, eyes wide. That was not a groan of pain.

'What…' he falters. 'What's the meaning of this?'

Spike looks up at him, his pupils dilated and his hair and face flecked with blood. His lips are parted and his hands shake in their manacles. 'Just do it!' he says. 'You know you want to… After everything I've done, don't you want to punish me? I said, hit me! If I could, I would be killing you right now!' The vampire makes a violent movement, but he is chained too tightly to get very far. All the same, he quickly throws his head back and roars in pain as the chip kicks in.

Rupert takes another couple of steps backwards, keeping his eyes fixed on Spike. What is this? Repentance? No… He does not sound regretful. Then what?

'You…' he says slowly. 'You want me to hurt you…' He looks away for a moment, searching for words. 'Because you can't hurt me.'

Spike makes no reply. He just stares at him.

'You get off on giving people pain,' Rupert continues. 'So now that you can't, the sadist has turned into a masochist.'

There is no reply. In an attempt to gather his thoughts, Rupert turns around and turns on the faucet to scrub his hands. Taking a look in the mirror, he cups his hands and splashes water in his face to wash away the bloodstains. He can feel Spike's eyes boring into his back. Once he is satisfied that his face is clean, Rupert turns back to face him. There is defiance in that face, but also desperation.

'Please,' Spike pleads, for the second time that day. 'Just hurt me…'

Rupert shakes his head. 'No,' he says. Then he leaves the room.

#

Spike has to fight the urge to kick the bathtub again. He leans his head back and feels a shudder go through him. If he could weep, he would. But he doesn't seem to be able to.

For a week he's been yearning, and he hasn't known for what. Not until today. He's learned to recognise Giles's heartbeat, the sound of his breathing, his footfalls outside the door. And he's learned to listen for the minute changes in heart rate and blood pressure when he speaks to him, has learned what gets a rise out of him and what doesn't. And maybe it's some bizarre form of Stockholm syndrome, but the sound of the former Watcher's pulse has become comforting. The smell of him feels like home.

When he realised it was pain he wanted, at first Spike was afraid. Now he's reconciled with it. He understands. It's something he needs. The memory of Rupert's fist makes his body tingle with sensation, and he wonders when Giles, the Watcher, turned into Rupert, the man.

He is hard, and he wants to do something about it, but his shackles make it difficult, and anyway, this way he can revel in the pain of it. He can dream, and the pain can go on forever.

He pictures it, in his mind. Rupert, hurting him. Rupert, humiliating him. Using him. Pushing into him. Loving him.

#

Rupert takes off his clothes on autopilot and crawls into bed, but he is wide awake.

The serpent has been defanged, and can't bite anymore. So now he wants to be bitten. He wants to be hurt. As angry as Spike makes him, Rupert couldn't bring himself to do that. Spike is far more broken than he had ever suspected, and for all he has done he is now entirely harmless to people, and he would be helpless against him. It goes against every moral fibre of Rupert's being, and he can't do it.

But Ripper might…

He shudders as he allows himself to imagine beating Spike. Hurting him. Giving him pain… Bringing him to his knees, every blow a step towards Spike's redemption, and Rupert's damnation.

A tingling sensation fills his stomach and, disgusted with himself, he feels himself getting hard. Is he no better than the creature chained up in his bathtub? Does he, too, get off on giving people pain?

No, not him, he convinces himself. Ripper. Ripper, who is angry and impulsive and full of rage and hate and loathing. He is the one who gets off on other people's suffering. And he isn't Ripper, not anymore.

_But maybe I could be, _he thinks. _Maybe hurting Spike would be the charitable thing to do. Maybe I could make him better. Maybe I could fix him this way. If only I let Ripper out a little bit… _Maybe Rupert is the cruel one, refusing to hurt Spike when he asks him for it. Like the old joke: The masochist says, 'Hit me.' And the sadist says, 'No.'

He shakes his head violently. Then he sighs, and gets out of bed again.

He tip-toes down the stairs, as silently as he can. Waits outside the bathroom door for a minute, listening. He is startled by the voice that comes from within.

'I can hear your heartbeat, you know,' says Spike. 'And your breathing.'

Rupert pushes the door open, slowly and intently, and turns on the light. Spike squints up at him. The blood stains on his face and hair have turned brown.

'What?' he says. 'Need a piss?'

Rupert… No, Ripper shakes his head, slowly. Not saying a word, he gets to his knees next to the bathtub and reaches into the pocket of his dressing gown. He pulls out a small key.

'What's this, then?' Spike asks, uncertainly.

Ripper puts a finger to his lips. 'Shh.' Then he proceeds to loosen Spike's cuffs. 'Get up,' he orders.

Spike gets to his feet, slowly, and climbs out of the tub, his legs shaking slightly. Ripper takes off his glasses and leaves them on the edge of the sink. Then he turns back to Spike, who is now standing in the middle of the floor looking mildly confused.

Ripper delivers a backhand blow to the side of Spike's face that sends him sprawling back into the tub. He grabs him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulls him to his feet again, before punching him in the gut. Spike groans and shuts his eyes. Ripper hits him again and again, until he slumps to the floor, his body shaking.

'Was this what you wanted?' Ripper asks in a deadly whisper.

Spike raises his gaze to him. He is trembling. 'M… More,' he croaks.

Leaving the room, Ripper returns a moment later with a leather belt in one hand. He helps Spike to his feet and pulls off his t-shirt. Wordlessly, he directs him to face the wall. Spike obeys without hesitation, and Ripper proceeds to whip him with the belt. It makes a satisfying smack as it makes contact with the pale flesh, leaving angry red marks in its wake. Spike whimpers with every blow, and then begins to cry out.

Ripper stops, grabs Spike's shoulder and flips him around.

The vampire's face and chest are bruised and bloodied. He moans at the touch of Ripper's hand. Ripper studies him, eyes lingering at his crotch, where he can tell Spike is as hard as he is.

'Thank you, Rupert,' Spike whimpers weakly.

'Call me Ripper,' says Ripper, and feels a surge of arousal as Spike repeats it.

Without thinking, he presses his body up against the smooth, pale form before him, and bites into his cold neck, hard enough to draw blood. Spike cries out, and he grabs Ripper's shoulders, squeezing. Ripper lets go of his neck and looks into Spike's eyes. The vampire's pupils are dilated and his lips quiver slightly. He stretches his neck out and brushes their lips together, very lightly. Ripper pulls his head back, denying Spike access to his mouth.

'Getting bold, are you?' he whispers. 'I call the shots here, William.'

Spike nods. 'I… I'm sorry.'

'Why would you want to kiss me, anyway?'

Spike looks away. 'I don't know…' he says. 'I'm… I want you.' He dares a glance up at Ripper's eyes, and for a moment, Rupert surfaces.

_This is wrong,_ he thinks. _This is all wrong…_

He came down here to… To do what? Teach Spike a lesson? No, Spike wanted this, he has done exactly what the creature asked him to do. But surely, this is enough? Why would he need to do anything more now?

Because he is hard as Chinese algebra, that's why. Because looking at Spike's lithe form, his smooth, pale, cool skin, stirs something inside him. There is an elegance to Spike, even battered and bruised, a sad beauty, and he wants him. And Spike wants him back… He is trembling with desperate need.

Rupert retreats into his mind and lets Ripper take over again. He leans in and touches his lips to Spike's once more. Spike responds with a moan and kisses him back. Ripper runs his tongue along Spike's cool lower lip, and his lips eagerly part for him. The vampire's mouth is cold, but his tongue is alive and demanding.

Ripper takes his hand, entwining their fingers, and pins it to the wall. He breaks the kiss and lets his mouth wander off to explore other parts of Spike. He bites into his neck again, causing Spike to throw his head back and groan. He nibbles his earlobe, and Spike shudders. His collar bone, his shoulder, his chest; Ripper kisses and sucks and nibbles, not caring that he's getting Spike's blood in his mouth, and Spike moans, tangling the fingers of his free hand into Ripper's hair.

He groans loudly when Ripper bites at his nipple, and his hips buck. Ripper pushes his hips forward, crashing their groins together. He rolls his hips, and Spike responds with a loud moan. Ripper grabs his arse, squeezing it through the black jeans.

He kisses his way back up to Spike's face, then pulls away, looking into his eyes again. Spike's pupils are so dilated his blue eyes now look black. He stares at him as if half-asleep. His eyes are needy, begging for Ripper to continue. Ripper's heart is pounding, his breath coming in ragged pulls.

'On your knees,' he commands hoarsely, and Spike does as he is bid.

Ripper loosens his bathrobe and lets it drop to the floor. Spike's cold hands linger at the lining of his pants, trembling slightly, and he looks up a bit uncertainly. Ripper nods curtly, and Spike pulls them down to reveal his cock, hard and throbbing and shiny with precum. Spike takes the shaft into his hand. His cold touch makes Ripper shudder and he gasps as Spike runs his thumb over the head. Spike strokes him slowly a couple of times, before closing his cool lips around him. Ripper groans in the back of his throat, and runs his hand through Spike's hair, pulling at the bleached blond curls. That makes Spike moan, and the sound sends vibrations up the shaft. He licks the length of Ripper's cock, pulling back the foreskin with his hand and tonguing the slit, before swallowing him whole, sucking hard.

Ripper leans against the wall, gasping with each suck. Spike cups his balls in his right hand and squeezes. With his left hand, he grabs hold of Ripper's arse, fingering his arse-crack absentmindedly.

Ripper moans loudly. He feels a familiar tightening in his gut. His balls swell and his cock twitches. But he doesn't want to come yet.

'Stop…' he moans. 'Wait…'

Spike stops, looking up at him expectantly.

Ripper pulls him roughly to his feet and pushes him face-first against the wall. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pulls them down the slender, white hips, and reaches around to grab Spike's cock with one hand. It is cold and hard in his hand, like silken marble. He strokes him quickly and unceremoniously as his own cock prods his arse-crack. 'Do you want it?' he whispers in Spike's ear.

'Yes.' The vampire's voice is raw and harsh as he responds between groans. 'I… I want… I want it…'

'How badly do you want it?' Ripper hisses through gritted teeth.

'I… So… So badly… I'll do anything!' Spike's hips buck backwards towards him. 'Just… ah… Just do it!'

Not bothering to even ready Spike's entrance with a finger, Ripper spreads his cheeks apart and plunges in, hard and fast and brutal. The vampire wanted pain, after all.

Spike cries out, swearing loudly. Ripper continues to stroke him, faster and harder, and Spike comes, spilling out over his hands.

Ripper holds Spike tight about the waist with one arm. With the other he reaches up and grabs Spike by the throat, squeezing. Spike groans and whimpers.

'P… please… Ripper…' he moans incoherently. 'Just… Fuck! Harder… I… harder!'

And Ripper obliges, pumping harder and harder until he feels like he might explode at any second, sinking his teeth into Spike's shoulder.

'Ripper…' Spike sobs. 'I'm… I'm coming… Say my name!'

'William!' Ripper calls, and he comes with a violent shudder. Spike's whole body shakes and trembles against him. When he pulls out, Spike sinks to the floor, completely spent.

Rupert crouches down next to him. 'Are… are you all right?' he asks, suddenly concerned.

Spike nods. His eyes open, blue once more, staring at Rupert in something like adoration. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I'm… I'm good.'

Rupert nods. He stands and goes over to the bathtub, turning on the shower. He helps Spike get his jeans and boots all the way off and then helps him into the tub and gets in after him. His wounds are already healing, but Rupert helps him clean off the blood and the cum.

'I'm sorry,' says Rupert, quietly.

'Sorry for what?' Spike asks, studying his face.

'That, it… I took advantage of you… That's not me.'

Spike raises his hand slowly to Rupert's face and brushes the hair back from his forehead. 'Ripper gets to have all the fun, doesn't he?' he says. 'I'm the one who wanted this, remember? It's all right.' He gets up on tip-toe and kisses Rupert's forehead gently. Rupert closes his eyes, exhaling softly.

When they are both reasonably clean, they get out of the tub and towel themselves off.

'Well,' says Spike. 'Back in the tub I go, I guess.'

Rupert glances at him. 'No,' he says. 'You should… Come with me.'

Spike looks up at him, one eyebrow raised. 'Really?' he asks.

Rupert nods. He takes him by the hand and leads him from the bathroom, up the stairs, to his bed. They both lay down under the duvet, and Rupert drapes an arm across Spike, who nuzzles into his shoulder.

'Thank you,' he whispers. 'For… for taking me seriously… For giving me what I needed.'

'Good night, Spike,' says Rupert


End file.
